


Tease

by ficteer



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficteer/pseuds/ficteer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unsurprisingly, it started as a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tease

He supposed he should be used to it by now, Suyama thinks as he watches Hanai dig around in the bathroom drawer for a tape measure. It’s not like he hasn’t been in a relationship with the man since their third year in high school, when the obviously blushing faces and awkward neck-rubbing just really wasn’t cutting it anymore. Everything had been a competition of some sort with Hanai, whether it was who could run faster, who could cook spaghetti al dente the best, who could leave a hickey closest to the neckline without someone noticing it the next day at work. 

And yet, somehow, he’s still amused by him, leaning against the door frame and studying Hanai’s rear end as it wiggles temptingly in his baggy sweatpants in the air in front of him. Affectionate towards it, even, he muses as Hanai finally stands up triumphantly, turning and flushing a bit when his eyes meet Suyama’s face. Whoops, he thinks, carefully schooling himself away from what Hanai might consider any kind of mockery, as he  _is_  still interested in sleeping in the bed _with_  his boyfriend tonight, and too much teasing has Hanai stubbornly dragging blankets to the couch.

“Okay. Lift. And no flexing!” he snaps, lifting the tape measure to find the end. Suyama sighs under his breath, lifting his arm as Hanai ordered. He waits, watching Hanai steps in close. The cool tape sends a slight chill up his skin, but it feels nice with the slight heat building with having Hanai in his personal space like this. His light brown curls, even wilder post-shower than they are during the day, smell of the two-in-one shampoo he uses to try and tame them, masculine and thirsting for Suyama’s fingers to test their shape. He hasn’t put on a shirt yet, and the lingering moisture from the shower would feel really nice beneath his palm. A slight sniff has the smell of their soap wafting into Suyama’s nose, and from this distance, he can pick out a place around Hanai’s mouth where he didn’t quite perfectly shave, and there’s just a hint of day-old stubble that he’d definitely feel if he leaned in for a kiss.

He’s patient, though, waiting for Hanai to pull back and look at the number on the tape before handing it over and lifting his own arm. Suyama takes it with all of the teasing care he feels he can get away with, watching as Hanai’s mouth dips into an embarrassed frown that refuses to back down. His own curls into a smile, and he leans in himself to measure Hanai’s bicep just as Hanai had done for him, except he’s more devious. He leans in a bit more, steps in closer, knows that  _he_ hasn’t had his post-workout shower yet, and knowing from more than one red-faced confession that Hanai finds it ‘embarrassingly attractive’ how he smells, knows that Hanai’s eyes will be locked on his throat where the sweat had beaded on his skin not long enough ago for it to have dried all the way, knows that Hanai’s tongue will feel heavier in his mouth at the thought of tasting Suyama’s salty skin, knows that this slight quiver in Hanai’s arm is the singing tension in every muscle from not stepping forward and acting on the impulse to grab and touch. 

“Are you seriously taking this long?” Hanai asks, voice dipping into the lower registers but still not quite a growl, and Suyama figures that he’s done about as much teasing as he can get away with for now. He pulls back, reading the number off to Hanai, and watching as his taller boyfriend stands straight and gets that happy look on his face that he always does when he wins one of their competitions. 

It’s probably too much, he thinks at the back of his mind, but he can’t help himself. He leans in, brushing his lips over Hanai’s throat, reveling in the jump in Hanai’s pulse he can feel beneath the soft kiss. Hanai goes stiff, slowly heating up, and Suyama pulls back to see that his eyes are darkening in perfect coordination with his cheekbones, the arousal as easy to read as his embarrassment. 

“Go get dinner started so I can take a shower,” Suyama says, deciding that one last little tease can’t hurt. He knows that his own face is coloring, he can  _feel_  the heat rise, but it’s impossible for him  _not_  to want to do  _something_  with Hanai standing this close in these clothes, so he moves, reaching out to take a finger and run it along the inner band of Hanai’s sweatpants, pulling ever so slightly and then letting it snap back into place. Hanai jolts, then moves robotically to the door, shooting a sour look over his face that has Suyama all but collapsed against the door frame in laughter. 

Hanai takes the couch that night.

 


End file.
